The Big Brother
by Laura Louisa Lewis
Summary: There was nothing Joe Reagan wanted more than to be a big brother. On an unhappy day for Jamie Reagan, his family tells him about the very first chapter in his friendship with his brother Joe.
1. Chapter 1

**The Big Brother**

Author's Note: A short two-shot for your enjoyment. Putting the finishing touches on a much longer story!

* * *

 _December 8, 2014_

Jamie heard footsteps approaching and made an educated guess about who would have located him. "I'm over here, Danny."

Danny walked around the family gravestones, pausing to rest one hand on Joseph Reagan's stone. He found his brother sitting against the back of that stone. "You were supposed to meet us at the house an hour ago."

"Yep," Jamie agreed.

"When you didn't show up, I thought I'd find you here. And I'll bet you a beer that I know what you're thinking."

"No bet, Detective. Happy Birthday to me. I've now had as many birthdays as Joe got. Thirty-two."

Danny lowered himself to the ground and leaned against Mary Reagan's gravestone. "Thirty-two years, eleven months, nine days. That's how long Joe got to be your big brother."

"So he's still my big brother for eleven months and nine days? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, kid, he's always your big brother. He was born before you." Danny reached over to grab his brother's shoulder. "You know nothing was more important to Joe than being your big brother. Nothing he wanted more. So don't try to knock him out of that role too quickly."

"His early Christmas present. I know."

"Or his late birthday present. That's when he first started campaigning for a little brother. A few months before his fifth birthday, right after Dad and Mom left the three of us in Grandpop and Grandma's care for the first time. I'd been bossing Joe around, because I was his big brother and I could."

"There's a surprise."

"Stuff it, kid. Anyway, he was still down about that a few days later, after Erin and I were back at school. Mom asked him what was wrong…" 

* * *

Mary Reagan put the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and looked over at her four-year old son. He sat at the kitchen table, poking disinterestedly at his oatmeal. "Joey, aren't you hungry?"

Joseph Reagan shoveled a spoonful of the cereal into his mouth. "Yef, Mommy," he replied as he tried to keep the oatmeal from dribbling back out.

Mary sat down next to her son, watching as he ate a few more bites. "Tell me what's going on in your little head."

Joe looked up from his bowl of oatmeal. "Mommy, when's it my turn to be the big brother?"

"Maybe later," Mary hedged. "Why are you asking?"

Joe sighed. "Danny said I have to do what he says, 'cause he's the big brother. I wanna be the big brother."

"And when did Danny tell you this?"

"When you and Daddy were away last week. I asked him when it was my turn, and he laughed at me." Joe's lower lip started quivering as he remembered Danny's teasing. "Erin too."

Mary scooted her chair closer to Joe's and hugged him. "Oh, sweetie. They weren't laughing at you."

"Were too."

"Okay, a little. But mostly they were laughing because they know you can't be their big brother."

"Why not? I'm gonna get big. I'll be five next time it's my birthday."

"But Danny will be nine, and Erin will be seven. They'll get older each year, just like you do. You can only be the big brother of someone who's born after you."

Joe pouted. "That's not fair. I wanna be the big brother."

"But if you were the big brother, you wouldn't get to spend time with me. You'd have to go to school, like Danny and Erin. And we couldn't go to the playground whenever we want."

Joe's face brightened. "Can we? Please?"

Mary lifted Joe out of his chair. "Go get your shoes on. We'll leave in ten minutes."

Joe raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom. He grabbed his shoes out of the closet and stuffed his feet into them. Even as he started trying to tie the laces, the little wheels inside his head were still turning. He could only be the big brother if there was a younger brother. So he needed to get a younger brother. But they probably cost a lot. His friend Timmy's dog had puppies a few months ago, and Timmy's parents sold them for five dollars each! Baby brothers were probably _at least_ that expensive. He only had a little bit of money left from his allowance, but his birthday was coming up soon, and birthdays meant presents! Suddenly, he knew what he was going to ask for as his birthday present.

Joe felt his fingers catch in the shoelaces and looked down at his left shoe. The laces were in a tangle, nothing like the tidy bows Mommy made. "Mommy!" He stood up and walked out of his room, careful not to trip over the dangling laces of his right shoe as he headed for his parent's room. "Mommy, I messed up my shoes laces again." 

* * *

"Shoes laces," Jamie smiled. "I used to call them that too."

"Probably picked it up from Joe. He tried to use the right words once you showed up, but he'd forget sometimes," Danny reminisced. "But that's how Mom learned what Joe wanted for his birthday."

"It was a couple of weeks before I found out." Frank Reagan's resonant voice carried down to his sons. He took a moment to look over the family graves before he circled around to join his sons on the other side. "It was a few weeks later, on a day when your mother was worn out from dealing with her oldest." Frank looked pointedly at Danny. 

* * *

Frank had finally pushed the last of the day's worries aside and joined his wife in sleep when someone knocked quietly on the bedroom door. Then Joe's little voice carried into the room. "Mommy? Daddy?" Then more knocking.

Frank forced himself toward wakefulness. He looked over at his wife, who was sound asleep. Mary had spent a frustrating day dealing with Danny's latest trouble at school and managing the needs of their two other children, and had made it clear that any child-related crises were his responsibility tonight. "Come on in, buddy," he responded quietly.

Joe pushed the door open. "Daddy? I can't sleep."

Frank drug himself out of bed and walked over to the door. He picked up his little boy. "What's wrong?"

"Had a bad dream." Joe snuggled closer against his father.

Frank walked over to the soft rocking chair and sat down. "About what?"

"J'raffs."

"Giraffes. Well, we don't see many of those here in Brooklyn," Frank reassured his son while he rocked the chair. "And I hear they stay away from people if they can."

"Good. 'cause they're scary," Joe responded.

"Now, Joey, you're getting to be a big boy. Big boys can't be scared of all giraffes."

"It'll be okay when I'm a big boy. J'raffs only eat little boys."

"Giraffes eat little boys?" Frank asked.

"Uh-huh. They walk around, looking in upstairs windows for little boys. That's why their necks are so long. And then they reach in and bite off the little boy's heads and eat them like cab-badges."

"You mean giraffes like cabbage?"

"No! They like little boys' heads. They just munch them up like cabbages. Unless the little boys curl up under their blankets and stay really, _really_ quiet."

"Ah." Joe's story suddenly began to make sense to Frank. "Your big brother told you this, didn't he?"

Joe nodded. "And I tried to be quiet. I _did_. But then I had a bad dream 'bout the j'raffs."

"The giraffes won't bother you. Danny forgot to tell you we have special windows. You see the wood grid on the window?" Frank pointed toward the mullioned bedroom window. "Our windows all have that grid. Giraffes can't fit through," Frank told his son as he continued rocking him. "You're safe in this house."

Joe stared at the window. "'kay. But it'll be better when I'm a big boy."

"Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it?"

"I'm gonna be five." Joe held up all the fingers on his right hand. "One, two, three, four, five!"

"That's right. Five years old. And what does my almost five-year-old want for his birthday?"

Joe had been waiting _forever_ for someone to ask him that. "A baby brother."

"A baby brother," Frank repeated as he thought of a way to respond. "Well, I'll see what I can do. Why do you want a baby brother?"

"So I can be the big brother. So I can tell him what to do. And he'd have to do it, 'cause I'll be the big brother," Joe replied.

"Hmm. And would you tell him scary stories about giraffes?"

" _No_ ," Joe responded quickly. "That's not nice. I'd tell him nice stories 'bout tigers and elephants."

"Tell me a story about an elephant."

Joe thought for a minute. "There was a boy who had a pet elephant. He fed the elephant bananas and leaves. And the elephant gave him rides around town. And he used his trunk to blow water on fires to help out the firemen. And …" Joe paused for a minute.

"Do they help out the policemen, too?"

"Yes! They chase the bad guys and step on them until the p'lice get there. And sometimes they blow water on big brothers, when they're mean." Joe yawned widely. "The end."

"Ready to go back to bed, my boy?"

"Um-hm," Joe mumbled sleepily.

Frank stood up, carried Joe back to his room and carefully tucked him into bed. He returned to his own bed.

"Frank, what did Joey need?" Mary turned onto her side as Frank lay down.

"He had a nightmare about giraffes."

Mary yawned. "It was our trip to the zoo a few days ago. Too much excitement and too much sugar."

"Or too many stories about child-eating giraffes from his big brother."

"Daniel. That boy," Mary muttered as she rolled onto her back. "Frank, I don't know if those two can share a room much longer."

"We could put Danny and Erin together, and let Joe share a room with the new baby," Frank commented with a smile.

"New baby?" Mary asked. "Do you know something I don't?"

"I know Joe wants a baby brother for his birthday."

"I thought he'd forgotten about that. He wants his turn to be the big brother."

Frank scooted closer to his wife and wrapped an arm under her shoulders. "I told him I'd see what I could do about that wish." He leaned in to kiss the side of her neck.

Mary laughed and elbowed her husband in the stomach as she rolled onto her side. "See what you can do some other time." 

* * *

Danny snickered. "Child-eating giraffes. One of my best stories."

"I bet you couldn't wait to get another younger sibling. Another little person for you to torment," Jamie commented.

"Danny always did like to cause trouble," Erin added as she joined her siblings and father. "Like when you tried to tell Joey we could buy him a little brother. It must have been only a week or so later. We were at the house for Sunday dinner…" 

* * *

It was a rainy spring Sunday, and the Reagan family had gathered at Henry and Betty Reagan's home in Bay Ridge for Sunday dinner. Danny, Erin and Joe sat on the back porch, waiting for dinner to be ready. Normally, they'd be playing cops and robbers in the backyard, but the steady rain had confined them to inside, until their grandmother had banished them to the porch with instructions to sit quietly for ten minutes until dinner was ready.

Joe tugged at Erin's arm. "Erin, I'm hungry. How much longer?"

Erin looked at her new watch, a present for her recent seventh birthday. "Eight minutes."

Danny snickered. "Like he can count to eight."

"I can! I'm almost five! Almost a big boy," Joe insisted.

"Prove it, kiddo," Danny challenged.

"One, two, three, four, five, seven, eight. See?"

"Missed one."

"Did not! I started with one."

"Well, you missed a number further up."

Erin glared at Danny as Joe's expression fell. "You almost got it, Joey. Remember to count both thumbs." Erin spread her fingers out. "One, two, three, four, five…" Erin wiggled the thumb on her left hand. "Six, seven, eight."

Joe looked down at his own hands. "Oh yeah. Six. Well, I'll get it right when I'm a big boy."

"And when do you think you going to be a big boy, squirt?" Danny asked.

"On my birthday. I'll be five. A big boy."

"Nah. You'll be five. But you'll still be little."

"Will not. I'm gonna get big. Bigger than you," Joe insisted. "Because I eat my breakfast. Mommy says that's what makes you grow big."

"So what do we have to get you for your birthday?" Danny asked.

Finally, one of his siblings had asked that question! "A baby brother," Joe quickly replied.

Danny laughed out loud. "Yeah, like I can afford one of those."

" _Danny_ ," Erin scolded. "He's serious."

"So is the baby shop. They make you wear a suit and tie just to get in the door. And you have to talk really quiet. And they're expensive."

"Tommy's mom sold their puppies for five dollars. Are babies that much more?"

" _Lots_ more. At least, I heard Erin was. When we went to the baby store for you, Mom and Dad shopped in the sale bin. Got you at a big discount."

"They did?" Joe frowned. Something seemed wrong with Danny's story. Was this like his giraffe story from a few weeks ago?

"Yup. But if a baby brother is what you want, I'll break open my piggy bank, put on my best suit and go down to the baby store. Erin could help out too. Between the two of us, I bet we could find one in the clearance sale bin," Danny told his brother.

Erin punched Danny's arm as hard as she could. "Stop making stuff up, Danny. You don't buy babies. That's not how it works."

Joe looked from one sibling to the other. "It isn't?"

Danny laughed. "Nope."

"Well, how does it work?"

Danny suddenly stopped laughing. "Uh, ask Erin."

Erin glared at her older brother. "Joey, Mommy has to have the baby."

"How does Mommy have a baby?"

Erin looked at her watch. "Well, looks like it's time for dinner!" She quickly got to her feet.

"Erin, how does Mommy have a baby?" Joe asked again.

"Ask Mommy or Daddy." Erin ran into the house, followed by Danny.

Joe stood up and followed his siblings. "Erin? How?"

Henry closed the door behind his youngest grandchild. He'd arrived at the porch door just in time to hear the tail end of his grandchildren's conversation. Joey was a persistent little boy. He imagined his son and daughter-in-law were going to be having an important conversation with their son very soon. 

* * *

"Francis, you did have that conversation with Joe, I assume?" Henry asked as he approached the family.

"Pop…"

"What? Got tired of waiting in the car for all of you. And Jimmy's won't hold our table all night. Not even for Birthday Boy." Henry gestured toward Jamie. "Let's go, kid. Time to get to your birthday party."

"Is there going to be a cake at this event?" Danny asked as he and Jamie stood up.

"With candles," Henry said. "Lots of candles."

"And Jamie, if you blow them all out, maybe you'll get that girlfriend this year," Danny teased.

"Ha-ha, Danny," Jamie snipped back.

Danny threw an arm around his brother's shoulders. "You know what Joe wished for when he was blowing out his candles on that birthday, don't you?"

"Yup. He told me…" 

* * *

Continued in Chapter 2.


	2. Chapter 2

"Happy Birthday, Dear Joey, Happy Birthday to You," the guests at Joe Reagan's fifth birthday party sang.

As soon as they were finished singing, Joe made his wish – _I wish Mommy would have a baby brother soon_ – and blew out the five candles. He got them all! Danny said that meant his wish would come true for sure. Mommy and Daddy had told him it was God who decided if the family would get a new baby, but surely, blowing out all the candles couldn't hurt!

Joe glanced over at the small pile of birthday presents waiting to be opened. He knew none of them contained the baby brother he wanted. Mommy had explained that to him a few weeks ago. Daddy puts a special seed in Mommy, and it joins up with a special seed from Mommy, and sometimes God makes that seed grow into a baby. But it takes months and months – almost a whole entire year! – for the baby to grow big enough to be born. Even if God planted the seed right away, Daddy had added, it would be Christmas or later before the baby would arrive. So, no baby brother for his birthday. But there was still cake, and ice cream, and other presents!

"Joey? Hey Birthday Boy, pay attention. Cake first, then presents." Danny none-too-gently knocked him on the back of the head, and shoved a plate of cake and ice cream into his hands.

Joe looked at the plate. His favorite! Chocolate cake with lots and lots of frosting, plus a big scoop of ice cream on the side. He put the plate down in front of him and waited impatiently for Danny and Erin to finish serving his guests. The he dug into the cake. Grandma Rose made the best cakes ever!

* * *

"Kid, you really did miss out on something, being only a year-and-a-half when she passed. Grandma Rose made the best cakes," Danny commented.

"Danny don't you remember? Jamie did get a taste of her cake. She made that one for his first birthday," Erin reminded her brother.

"That's right. The one he face-planted into. He was the only one who got any of that cake."

Jamie sighed. There really was no end to the embarrassing stories his siblings could tell. "Gimme a break. I was one year old and just learning to walk."

"All Mom wanted was a picture of you with your cake. And as soon as she snaps the photo, you wiggle out of Joe's grip, trip over your own feet, fall face-first into your cake, and roll around in it."

"Just. Learning. To. Walk," Jamie repeated slowly. "And I wasn't 'rolling around.' I was trying to get back on my feet."

"Except you kept slipping in the mushed cake and frosting." Danny snickered at the memory of Jamie's cake-coated body. "Erin, you remember? He was just about to start wailing…"

"When he got some of it in his mouth, and realized it tasted good…" Erin recalled.

"And then he started licking the frosting off, like a little baby kitten trying to clean itself." Danny snickered again.

"Ha-ha-ha," Jamie groused.

"Danny, maybe we should change the subject. We're embarrassing Jamie." Erin wrapped an arm around her brother's waist and pulled him close. "That giraffe story. Is that why you gave Joe that stuffed giraffe on his fifth birthday?

"Yup. To remind him of what happened to noisy little brothers. But he loved that thing. I think it ended up being his favorite present from that birthday."

"Nope," Frank interrupted. "Not by a long shot."

"Well, then, what was?" Danny asked. "Joe hauled that giraffe everywhere for a year."

"Jamie."

"Dad, Jamie wasn't born until December. Early Christmas present, remember?"

"Not likely to forget that, Danny. But that night was when your mother and I told him we were expecting his new sibling…"

* * *

Joe knelt down beside his bed and thought about which saint he should pray to tonight. Last night's prayers had gone to Saint Francis of Assippi. No, of Assisti. Of somewhere that started with 'Ass,' because, for some reason, that part always made Danny laugh. And the night before, it was Saint Patrick. But they were both animal related saints, and he wanted a little brother, not a pet animal. Saint Michael's name had come up recently. The saint of policemen, like Daddy and Uncle Brian. That would do.

Joe clasped his hands together. "Dear Mr. Saint Michael, can you ask God to give my family another baby. A little brother would be best, if you could ask for that also. Then he could be a policeman like Daddy and like Uncle Brian. That's Mommy's brother. But a sister would be okay, too. Thanks, Mr. Saint Michael. Amen."

"Joey, are you finished with your bedtime prayers?" Mary asked.

"Yes, Mommy." Joe climbed back onto his bed as his mother and father entered the bedroom. He picked up the stuffed giraffe that had been Danny's birthday present.

Mary sat down on one side of his bed, and Frank sat down on the other side. "So, what do you think of Danny's present?" Mary reached over to ruffle the stuffed animal's tail.

"I'm a big boy. I'm not scared of giraffes anymore. And I won't listen to everything Danny says anymore, either, 'cause he makes up stuff."

"Does your new giraffe have a name?" Frank asked.

"Jiff. Short for giraffe," Joey replied.

Frank and Mary looked at each other, amused at Joe's creative abbreviation. "Are you going to take care of Jiff, and make sure he's fed and tucked into bed at night?" Frank asked.

" _Daddy_ , he's a toy giraffe. He doesn't eat," Joe informed his father.

"Because he's already stuffed," Frank joked. Judging from his son's puzzled look, the pun had gone right over Joe's head. "But your new baby sibling will."

Joe looked up at his father, then at his mother. "New baby?"

"That's right, Joey. I'm going to have a baby."

"I'm going to be a big brother?"

When Mary nodded in confirmation, Joe got to his feet and jumped on the bed. "I'm going to be a big brother! I'm going to be a big brother!"

Frank grabbed his son on a bounce and took him down to the bed. "That's right, son. You're going to be a big brother."

Joe laughed as he tried to wiggle free of his father's grip. "When?"

Mary rubbed her son's head. "The end of December. Right around Christmas."

Joe twisted around so he was sitting up in Frank's arms. "He'll be like a Christmas present!"

"He will," Mary responded, "but a Christmas present that needs lots of love and attention."

"I can help! I can help take care of my baby brother!"

"But sometimes, baby brothers come out as baby sisters instead," Frank said. "Would you help with a baby sister?"

"A sister?" Joe pondered that for a moment. "I'd still be the big brother?"

"You'd still be her big brother," Frank confirmed.

"I guess that would be okay. But a brother would be better."

Mary reached over to stroke her son's head. "And a new baby will mean some changes for you. You might need to share a room with the baby."

"Me and the baby and Danny too?"

"No, sweetie. Just you and the baby."

"Okay. I can share," Joe agreed.

"And you'll have to share my time with the baby, also."

"That's okay. I'm five years old now. I can share."

"Come here, my big boy." Mary patted the bed beside her, and Joe wiggled out of his father's arms and moved over to his mother. She pulled him into a hug. "You may be five, but you're still my baby."

* * *

"And six months later, Jamie took over as baby of the family," Danny teased. He threw an arm around his brother's shoulders as they walked toward their waiting car.

"I'm not a baby," Jamie grumbled.

"No, but you were thirty-two years ago. A tiny, little baby."

"He's certainly grown a lot since that day, hasn't he, Francis. I'd never seen such a tiny baby."

"Well, Pop, he was almost three weeks premature." Frank's hand came down on top of Jamie's shoulder also. "Like we told Joe thirty-two years ago, Jamie was in a hurry to meet his big brother."

* * *

 _December 8, 1982_

Joe carefully washed the last of his lunch dishes and put it in the dish drain. "Should dry them and put them away, Mommy?" he asked his mother, who was sitting nearby in one of the kitchen chairs.

"No, Sweetie. Let them air dry for a while," Mary commented. She rubbed her swollen belly. Only a few more weeks, she reminded herself. The last few weeks of pregnancy were always the hardest, but today seemed especially bad.

"Mommy, I'm sorry you're not feeling good." Joe walked over and wrapped his arms as far around her as they would reach.

"I'm fine, my sweet boy. Just a little tired today." Mary ruffled her son's hair. "Why don't you go watch TV for a little bit. I'll come join you soon, and you can tell me what you learned in kindergarten today."

"'kay!" Joe ran for the living room.

Mary rubbed her sore back. Her sweet Joey had been so helpful during this pregnancy. Always ready to help with anything she needed; to bring her things, or pick up objects she dropped, or do some chores like washing their lunch dishes today. He'd even tried to talk his parents into keeping him home from kindergarten for a year so he could stay home and help her.

The little baby kicked inside her and she pressed a hand over that spot. The baby was being active today, moving around and kicking and not helping her general unwell feeling. Maybe if she sat down on the couch and watched TV with Joey, this one would settle down and nap. Mary stood up, yelped, and sat back down. "Joey? Come here," she called to her son.

Joe trotted into the kitchen seconds later. "Yes, Mommy?"

"Joey, I need you to call your father at work. Tell him my water broke."

"Water breaks?"

"Joey, just call you dad and tell him that, okay?" Mary winced and grabbed at her abdomen.

"Okay, Mommy." Joey ran across the kitchen to the phone and pushed the speed dial button for his father. He waited impatiently while the phone rang. "Daddy?"

Mary watched as Joe's mouth turned down in a frown. Obviously, Frank had not answered his phone.

"Oh. I need to talk to my daddy, Mr. Reagan," Joe told whoever he was talking to. He stood there frowning, holding the phone, for a few minutes. Then he smiled. "Daddy! Mommy asked me to call you. She says she broke water. I didn't know water broke!"

Joe listened to something his father was saying. His eyes went wide. "Oh! The baby!" He turned to his mother. "Mommy, Daddy wants to know if he should call an ambulance."

"No, Sweetie. Tell him to come home."

"'kay. Daddy, Mommy says for you to come home." Joe related to his father, then nodded at whatever his father was telling him in response. "Okay. Bye, Daddy." He hung up the phone and walked over to his mother. "Mommy, Daddy says he'll be here soon, and for me to unlock the front door."

Mary reached over to rub her son's hair. "You should probably do what he said. In fact, why don't you sit out on the step and watch for him? Then you can let me know the second he gets here." Mary tried to hide her discomfort as another contraction hit. Three weeks early. She sent up a quick prayer that three weeks early wasn't too early.

"Mommy?" Joe's concerned voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm okay, Sweetie. It looks like your little sibling is going to show up early," she tried to reassure Joe. "Now, go keep watch for your father."

Joe nodded and trotted over to the door.

Mary counted two more contractions before Joe burst back in the door with a shout of, "Mommy, he's here."

Frank ran through the door almost before Joe finished his announcement. "Mary?" He knelt down beside his wife.

"Frank, the baby's coming early."

"I know. I called the doctor. He's ready for us at the hospital. Can you walk to the car?"

"I think so." Mary allowed her husband to help her to her feet, and with his assistance, they carefully began walking to the car.

Frank and Mary were halfway to the front door when Frank realized Joe wasn't following them. "Joe, get over here. Your new sibling needs us to get to the hospital."

Joe ran to his father's side. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine." Frank placed his free hand on top of Joe's head. "Now go get in car. You remember Detective Brooks? He'll help you." He patted Joe on the back, and his son ran out of the house, yelling a greeting to the detective who had driven Frank home.

What Frank remembered most about the trip to the hospital in the back seat of his police car was how hard Mary gripped his hand whenever a contraction hit, trying to not cry out and frighten Joe. And how good a job Brooks was doing at both driving the car quickly and keeping Joey distracted with a steady stream of questions about his soon-to-be sibling, and kindergarten, and Christmas and a variety of other subjects.

And the hospital was another rush of confusion. Mary being whisked off to the maternity ward; Brooks offering to stay in the maternity waiting area with Joe until Grandma Betty arrived; the actual birth occurring so much quicker than he remembered from their first three children; their new son, looking so small and jaundiced but screaming every bit as loud as his siblings had. Late preterm, the doctor had said; two-and-a-half to three weeks premature, but appeared to be otherwise healthy. Even so, they wanted to keep him at the hospital for a few extra days, to make sure all his systems were working right.

Frank had stayed with Mary while they got her and the baby settled into a room. Then, at his wife's suggestion, he went to retrieve their second-youngest son.

He found Joey sitting in one of the chairs, leaning against his grandmother, looking much too worried for a five-year old. They both looked up at him as he approached. "Mother and baby are both doing well," he told them.

Betty Reagan stood up. "Then I think someone would like to see his family."

Joe looked up at him. "Can I? Please?"

Frank reached down to take Joe's hand. "Let's go see Mommy and your new sibling." He led Joey to his mother's room, helped Joe wash his hands at the sink outside the door and pushed the door open.

Joe hesitantly walked into the room. "Mommy?" He spotted his mother sitting in a padded chair next to the bed, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. "Mommy!" he almost yelled.

Mary looked at her now next-to-youngest son. "Joey," she said quietly. "You ready to meet your baby brother?"

Joe's face lit up like the sun. "Brother? It's a brother?" He kept his voice quiet, following his mother's example.

"Come here, Joey. Sit beside me."

Joe walked over to his mother and climbed into the chair beside her. He looked down at the bundle. "He's so little!"

"He was so impatient to meet you, he came into the world a few weeks early. He'll grow bigger."

Joe reached down to touch the tiny hand his brand-new brother had worked free of the swaddling and smiled when the baby wrapped his little hand around his finger. "What's his name?"

"Jameson Henry Reagan. Jameson from my mother's family, and Henry from you grandfather Henry."

Joe looked at the tiny baby, who slitted his eyes open just enough that Joe could see blue eyes looking back at him. "That's a lot of names for a little baby. Can we just call him Jamie?"

Mary smiled at her husband. "You can. I'm sure he'll like Jamie."

Joe smiled at his new baby brother, and was rewarded with the baby moving his tiny lips into a smile. "Hello, Jamie. I'm your big brother Joe."

* * *

"So, I was only known by my real name for what? A half-hour? An hour?" Jamie asked.

"An hour sounds about right," Frank commented.

"Yep, kiddo, by the time Grandpop brought Erin and me to the hospital after school, Joey had already decided that his little brother's name was Jamie," Danny added. "We were confused when the nurses kept talking about this 'Jameson' person that was supposed to be our baby brother."

"Didn't realize Joe got that nickname started so soon," Jamie mused.

"We never told you before?" Danny asked. "Well, there's one thing Joe did that going to stick with you, even though he's not here. I'm sure there are other things."

Jamie nodded as he tried to push back a wave of sadness. "I can think of one of the first things Joe told me. He said not to listen to you, because 'Danny makes stuff up.' That was good advice. Still listen to that."

"No, see, your big brother's big brother says that was bad advice and you should ignore it."

"There you go, making stuff up. Just like my big brother said you did."

"So, am I making stuff up when I say I'm going to knock your block off in a minute?"

"Maybe," Jamie responded. "But you'll have to catch me first." He took off running toward the waiting cars.

"Hey!" Danny ran after his brother.

"Danny! Jamie!" Erin called after her brothers. "Behave!" She shook her head "Boys."

Henry looked at his son. "Francis, do you think we should stop them?"

"From doing what? Acting like the brothers they are?"

A hundred yards ahead of them, Jamie ducked around the massive SUV the city provided for its police commissioner and leaned against the side, hoping he'd bought himself a few seconds to get his emotions under control. But no. Danny soon joined him.

"Damn, kid, you're fast. Just like Joe," Danny huffed.

Jamie tried to smile. "Something else I learned from him, I guess." He glanced over at his brother. "Danny, thanks for coming out here tonight. I…" Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the tears as another wave of sadness hit. "Sometimes, I just miss him so much."

"Me too. We all do. But I know how close you two were." Danny grabbed his brother's shoulder. "You going to be okay tonight?"

Jamie nodded. "We can't just forget about this party and go home?"

"Nope. You're coming to you birthday dinner, and we're going to dump enough drinks down you that tonight will be a blurry memory tomorrow."

"That sounds like an emotionally healthy way to handle a bad day. One I'm sure my big brother would have approved of," Jamie said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Both of us would approve. It's not like you do it every day. And you know Joey would be right here, trying to drink you under the table."

Jamie smiled at the memory of a Halloween party's aftermath. "I know."

Danny apparently recalled the same aftermath. "Give me your cell phone now."

Jamie dug his phone out of his pants pocket. "Grumpy," he muttered under his breath as he handed it to Danny.

"Dopey," Danny replied, and the two brothers shared a grin. "And don't worry, you've already been banged in sick for tomorrow."

"I have? Oh God, Dad didn't call Renzulli, did he?" Jamie winced at the idea of his father – the police commissioner – calling his sergeant to report him sick.

"Of course not. I did." Danny draped an arm around his little brother's shoulders and pulled him close. "That's what big brothers are for."

* * *

 _fin_


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